Seems Like Old Times
by Tidia
Summary: Continuing on from Coming to an Understanding and Back in Business. This is a future fic with Dean and Sam both going well in life, and still hunting on the weekends. Sam initiates this hunt when his 'real job' and hunting intertwine.
1. Chapter 1

Seems Like Old Times

By: Tidia

Disclaimer: The usual--I do not own Supernatural, and I am only borrowing

Notes: This was requested by Leslie, as she likes the idea of Dean doing well in life (not ending up dead, drunk or a derelict) Sam does well too, and they are weekend hunting. So this follows Coming to an Understanding and Back in Business. Yes, you should read those before reading this. Mog did a quick beta and I thank her. (I miss saying something about Ridley-lol)

Part 1

Most people wouldn't call Sam Winchester lucky, but on this day he was escorting Joseph Choate, the prominent senior partner of the firm whose client was purchasing an incomplete, custom-designed office building in downtown Los Angeles. Joseph wanted Sam to look over the contract part of the real estate transaction. Sam still felt some trepidation over being noticed by the senior partner. Lowly associates were not asked to tag along, let alone be consulted on the contract construction.

Sam walked behind the Joseph, keeping one eye on him to make sure the older man would be safe. The attorneys needed to have notice of any issues in the building. The elevator, designed to recreate the feeling of a luxury store lift from turn-of-the-century Paris, was in working condition, so they traveled to the top, the fifteenth floor, and made their way down.

The elevator paused as it rested at the top floor. The hand-etched, laminated glass wall gave a full view of the lobby they'd just come up from. Sam let out a nervous laugh.

"Not afraid of heights I hope, Winchester?"

"No, sir, just slight reservations about elevators in an incomplete building."

They walked around the floor and Sam had the distinct feeling someone was watching them. "Is there anyone else around?"

"Workers on floors five and two, that's all." Joseph made notes on a yellow legal pad, glancing back at the younger man with him. Sam nodded and put pen to his own pad of paper, but his 'notes' consisted of little more than a picture of two googly eyes. Appearances were everything. And Sam really did need to keep up appearances with his employer.

They descended to the twelfth floor, and as they walked through, Sam watched Joseph pull his suit jacket tighter around his body. The man didn't seem to notice his breath fogging. Sam stepped up next to him. "Sir, I think this floor has some unsealed windows. Maybe we should continue further down."

"It is breezy." Joseph looked around, as if expecting to see a missing glass panel.

Sam escorted the man to the elevator and chose the eighth floor. He maneuvered his way out of the lift first, hoping it didn't look disrespectful. His instinct paid off. A sudden jerking movement straight ahead forced him to react. A hammer cut through the air, flying towards him. He practically tackled Joseph, pushing him back into the elevator. Their stumble covered the sound of the hammer striking the wall beside the lift, as Sam covered his own actions.

"Um…uh, water leak, we should tell the workers."

Joseph looked at him oddly, but pressed the fifth floor button. They exited the elevator, and Sam could hear the workers. "Sir, I'm going to stop in the bathroom if you don't mind."

"I'm going to find the foreman and report that leak."

Sam hurried around the corner, hoping to spot a worker. The 'hired help' was always the best source of information; unfortunately it had to occur away from the prying eyes of employers.

He found an electrician, kneeling on the floor by an outlet. An older Hispanic man in neat, gray overalls covered the open wires with a white plastic cover, screwing it into place.

Sam cleared his throat, and bent down to talk to the worker. "Hey, I'm with the attorneys and we were touring the building."

The man acknowledged Sam with a glance as Sam continued. "It seems okay. But, I want to really impress my boss, is there anything else we should know?"

The electrician looked up, wiping his nose on the back of his hand. "Brown noser huh? It's a job, man."

Sam nodded his head, feeling like a complete idiot. "Yeah, you know how it is. . .So, this seem like a safe site? Ever any strange things happening? Things sort of drifting in the air?"

"What?" The electrician reacted to the odd question by screwing up his face. "You sound like Paco." He stood up, moving four feet further down to work on the next outlet.

The attorney stood up too, and followed the electrician, his interest piqued by the idea that someone else had experienced a supernatural occurrence. "Really? Can I talk to Paco?"

The worker laughed. "No, he quit, said that a staple gun came at him." The electrician illustrated with his hands what had happened to Paco. "Bam! Right into his leg. Idiot."

"His leg?" Sam swallowed, thankful he had seen the hammer before it struck them.

"Like three times. Still trying to get the company to pay his bills."

"Right, well, thanks." He had gotten some information, but didn't want to press his luck by being away from Joseph too long. Already, Sam was wondering what the senior partner would say about him around the office.

As he hurried to find his boss, he decided he would pull the accident reports in regards to the building when he got back to work.

He didn't rush into any hypothesis, choosing instead to take his time to go through the records. Some accidents could be explained as normal activities at a construction site; however, others were definitely odd.

He pulled the deed on the land, tracing back the owners, and then cross-referenced the names. The original owner, Arthur Zerropolis, had gone bankrupt and was forced to sell the property. Further research via a few other sources revealed a bloody suicide on the site of his lost property. Bankruptcy wasn't a pleasant experience and Arthur seemed most likely to be the haunting force.

Sam bit the side of his thumbnail, considering the plan forming in his mind. He was okay with the weekend hunting trips instigated by his brother. It maintained their link and they were still helping people. But, this was different. Sam would be initiating things this time. An existence he didn't initially want, and one that he kept on the fringe of his life.

Before his nerve failed him, he dialed Dean's cellphone number. His older brother didn't reply and he left a message, trying to remember where Dean said he would be this week.

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

Seems Like Old Times

By: Tidia

Disclaimer: See Part 1

Notes: This is a future fic where everything the boys have normal lives and still hunt. The first part of this AU is Coming to an Understanding and in it Dean and Sam's relationship needed some work, but now they are back on track. Thank you for the kind reviews. Have a great weekend!

Part 2

Finally, alone and on his way to the airport to head home, Dean was able to check his Blackberry for messages. He scrolled through, noticing they were all from Sam. Instead of reading or listening to the messages he called his brother.

"Dude, seriously, three voice mails and two emails—what?" Dean asked as soon as Sam answered the phone.

"Where are you?"

Dean looked through the tinted glass of the limousine at the scenery going by and smirked. "Can't say."

"Can't say?" Sam snorted. "What kind of answer is that?"

"I don't know." Dean shrugged his shoulders. He pushed a button and the privacy screen rose between him and the driver.

"You don't **know** where you are or **can't** say?" Sam was finally asking the right question.

"Both. Two words - federal government. I was blindfolded. Gotta love the Patriot Act."

"Blindfolded? Figuratively or literally?"

"Literally. Dude, I'm serious. Those CIA types are whacked." The older Winchester brother reminisced about his day. The old Dean Winchester wouldn't have been allowed within one hundred yards of Quantico. This Dean Winchester with a clean record, and credentials marking him as head of security for Foster Industries, was given VIP treatment. He wished his father could have seen it. He did steal a pen for the memory.

Sam broke through his reverie. "I was just about to call Daniel."

"You didn't though, right?" Dean said hurriedly, hoping he didn't have to smooth over any ruffled feathers. " 'cause he doesn't like you."

"He doesn't like me?" Sam replied, the disbelief evident in his tone.

"No, well…yeah, give it some time."

Daniel had not given Sam his stamp of approval. It was an issue between the two friends. Dean was able to let go of his brother's actions of the last few years. Daniel, his boss and friend, was holding a grudge - Sam would have to offer penance before being allowed into Foster's good graces.

"It's been a year," said Sam softly.

Dean didn't like the dejected tone. As soon as he got back he was calling Daniel. If the man did not want to accept Sam then Dean would look for another job. "I'll talk to him. But hey, he's stopped rolling his eyes - that's progress."

The older Winchester scrolled through the emails on his Blackberry, reading Sam's messages. He had a separate cell phone, feeling funny to put a thing the size of his wallet to his ear. "You found us a job." Dean frowned. "And _who_ will this help?"

"People," Sam replied vaguely.

Dean shook his head. "Yeah, investment people." He liked to help desperate people who had no funds, and no one to turn to for assistance.

"Dean, what about the workers, tenants - this is right up our alley. . ." the younger Winchester cajoled.

"Are you billing this as part of your fee?" Dean tapped his fingers against the arm rest in the limousine, then opened the bar and removed a bottle of water.

"Hey, I'm not like that. Besides, what could I really bill it under?"

"You know I had plans this weekend. . ."

Sam responded with silence, which Dean could envision was actually his brother pouting. Dean relented after taking another sip of water. "Fine, whaddya got?"

"I'll email you everything and come over on Friday, after work." Sam sounded excited. Dean thought his brother never got to mix being a lawyer with supernatural hunting, whereas the older Winchester felt he used his hunting skills on an almost daily basis.

During the remaining part of the week Sam sent his brother updates on his research. Dean didn't see how tax information was going to help them on the hunt, but he allowed the younger Winchester to take the lead on this particular assignment.

Friday came, and when Dean returned home for the evening he was surprised to find Sam already waiting for him. He pulled the Impala into the garage and then jogged to the walkway. His brother stood and Dean shot him a wry smile. "I guess I have to feed you, don't I?" Dean punched in the alarm code. "You could have let yourself in."

"I figured I would just watch the horses." Sam gestured to the two large animals running around a corral. He glanced at his brother and then toward the pen once more. "What's with the horses?"

Dean shrugged his shoulders. Tonya took the time to care for the horses. He promised one day she could teach him to ride. "They came with the ranch." But, he had other interests. "**My** toys are in the shed. I got two ATVs."

Inside, Sam tossed his bag onto one of the living room arm chairs and followed Dean into the kitchen. "Do you have time to play with all these toys?"

The older Winchester pulled out two beers from the refrigerator, passing one to his brother. "Damn, you're a killjoy, you know that?" He removed two packaged steaks. "You are so lucky I planned ahead. We can grill these babies and then get to work."

"Got any vegetables?" Sam asked, opening the refrigerator.

"Ohh, a baked potato would be real good." Dean rifled through the cabinets, finally remembering where he placed the starch vegetable.

"I mean something green." The younger Winchester waved off the potato. "I know for a fact I bought you some frozen vegetables. . ."

"Then they're probably still in there." Dean carried the steaks out to the grill. "You can work on that, Suzy Homemaker."

Sam steamed the vegetables, finally joining his brother when they were done, bringing along second beers for both of them. "You have the life." Sam clinked his bottle against his brother's.

The eldest Winchester shook his head. "Don't say that, you're going to jinx it. Next thing you know this could all go away." He flipped the steaks over, and a splattering of fat sizzled on the grill.

"You'll be fine." Sam dismissed his brother's comment. He was proud of what Dean had accomplished. "You have a great home and a good job. You're successful. . ."

"I'd be happy with the Impala and me and you on the road," Dean interjected. He cocked his head to the side, and there was a far away look in his eyes. In a blink it was gone, Dean couldn't afford to look back and get lost in memories. They only brought a heavy heart. He cleared his throat. "Steaks are done."

During dinner Dean concentrated on his meal, while Sam excitedly explained his plan.

"I thought we'd hit each of the floors with that stuff Missouri showed us how to make."

"Each floor?" Dean pushed around a piece of broccoli before deciding not to eat it. "Damn." There were a lot of floors. Dean sensed this was going to be much more than just an in-and-out job. He hoped Sam had researched what the building contractors had in the way of night security.

"Have you talked to Missouri?" Sam asked after he had eaten his vegetable medley.

Dean grinned. He had remained in contact with not only the psychic, but with Bobby also. He wanted to keep some sort of connection to his father alive. "About once or twice a year…she still doesn't like me."

"I should give her a call." Sam stated.

"You should." Dean picked up his brother's plate along with his, and brought them to the sink. He scraped his vegetables into the disposal, and placed the dishes in the dishwasher. "You want to go out on the ATVs? Not much we can do until tomorrow."


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Seems Like Old Times

By: Tidia

Disclaimer: See Part 1. Heck, it is a Future AU which has been named After Life. If anyone wants to write a story -using any of it-- please go ahead.

Notes: Thank you for all the reviews. I am truly surprised by them. With the long weekend here in the states I am a touch behind. Please enjoy this part and thank you to MOG for the beta and helping with the action .

Part 3

Dean tossed the small duffle bag over the fence, then climbed after it. His brother hesitated as he grabbed the fence. Sam checked to make sure the rock salt shotgun was secure on his back. He should have taken Dean up on his offer to stow the weapon with the other in the bag. But male pride interceded after the older Winchester made a comment about Sam looking a little soft due to a desk job.

Dean watched from the other side of the chain link fence as his brother studied the least awkward way to get over. "Seriously, Sammy, you may want to start hitting the gym."

"Shut up. It's because I'm tall, taller than you," Sam stated, before he attacked the fence and made it over to stand next to his brother.

Dean picked up the bag. "Gotta love California - one-stop shopping for all your herbal needs."

They had started the day at the local supermarket to pick up supplies for the pouches. They purchased in bulk, and were given a once-over by the produce manager. Two men buying herbs led to only one thought - gay restaurateurs. It didn't help that, mostly to irritate Sam, Dean played mischievously into the man's line of thinking.

At two a.m. the building was wrapped in darkness and spotlights from the ground illuminated up the structure. Sam knew the sellers did not have security guards on the premises, although it was something he wanted to add to the initial contract. "Floor by floor. I'll take the north and east walls."

"And that leaves me south and west." Dean tossed Sam a walkie-talkie, which the younger Winchester fumbled with before it settled in his hand. "Just in case. You have your EMF detector?"

Sam held it up, already having retrieved it from the bag. "Yes. You're still pretty proud of this little Frankenstein thing, aren't you?"

"You wanna compare it to yours? Oh, I forgot, you've never built one."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Next you'll be telling me to advertise them to my friends."

Dean led the way to the front door. "You have friends?"

"Shut up," Sam replied, adjusting the shotgun holstered at his back.

" 'cause I would give you a cut. . ." Dean bent down to study the padlock on the front door. He pulled out a small leather case and unzipped it to reveal his lock-picking tools.

"Fifty-fifty?" Sam glanced around; making sure no one was around.

With a clink the lock released, and Dean removed the chains. "No, ten-ninety," he snorted. "Okay, let's get started."

"Meet you at the elevator in five." Sam took the hammer and the small bag of herb-filled pouches that Dean offered. The plan was to make unobtrusive holes in the drywall, then toss the herb bags deep in the wall, and hope no one noticed anything before the final wall finishing was completed.

They went through eight floors without any issues. On the elevator Dean was whistling some tune which Sam couldn't recognize. The younger Winchester was going to question his brother when the car lurched and stopped. Quickly, they both pulled out their EMF detectors.

The devices lit up.

"And I thought this was going to be easy." Dean pressed the 'open' button on the metal panel, hoping the mechanical equipment would not be overtaken until they got to their floor. The doors opened with a groan, not completely making the ninth floor, but coming close enough so the boys could step out. Dean had his shotgun at the ready, as did Sam.

A quick glance and Sam seemed to believe they were safe for the time being. "So I'll meet you at the stairs?"

"Yeah, stay alert." Dean nodded. He jogged towards the south end of the floor, picking up the pace, knowing the clock was now running against them. "I'd say Arty knows we're planning on evicting him."

On the next floor they burst through the stairwell door but ducked as a two-by-four came at them like a spear. They flattened themselves against the floor, and then each moved in a running crouch until they made it to their respective areas and planted the necessary pouches.

"Next time I go to a store, I am parking up front," Dean breathed, as they climbed the next flight of stairs.

"Are you getting winded?" Sam patted his brother's stomach. "Maybe you should start hitting the gym."

When they stepped through the door to the eleventh floor, everything was in motion, terrorizing them.

"This is like Die Hard!" Dean yelled. He tackled Sam as a piece of trim came at them.

Sam grunted at the impact of his brother across his torso. He had a feeling the activity would increase as they placed more of the protection bags. "We have to stick to the plan!"

"Right, you want to tell the Casper that? Because we got four more floors."

Sam did not reply.

"Yeah, yeah, let's get going." Dean rolled away, got to his feet and ran to the west wall.

The next floor seemed calm. Although the boys liked to think the ghost had given up, it was not the case. As soon as Dean placed his second pouch in the south corner, he was attacked by a drill. Controlled by an invisible hand, the drill jabbed forward with the bit spinning at a rapid pace.

Dean tossed himself out of the way, and the tool suddenly clattered the ground. He relaxed for a moment. Hearing the noise and Dean's shouts, Sam ran toward his brother.

A secondary sound cut through the surrounding din. The older Winchester sensed the danger before he knew what it was. It was as if a thick sheet of ice strained under an enormous weight. Glancing at the window that made up much of the south wall he saw cracks racing across the wide panel.

Dean propelled himself to his feet. "Sam!"

He tackled his brother at the knees, just as the glass exploded thunderously around them. Dean felt the glass rain down on him, then there was silence. He rolled to the side, hearing a crackling sound as the glass attached itself to his clothing.

"I thought you would meet me at the stairs." Sam said, as he sat up, shaking some glass out of his hair. He stood up and offered a hand to his brother.

"Yeah, I took the long route."

"You're bleeding." The glass had cut Dean's exposed forearms, leaving myriad little slices oozing blood. Sam looked at his brother's back and the once green t-shirt was rapidly showing streaks and spots of blood.

Dean shrugged off his brother's attention. They had a job to finish and the injuries were not life threatening.

"Come on, three floors left," Dean said.

A deep rumble shook the walls of the building. The brothers stared at each other and shouted simultaneously.

"Run!"

They ran to the stairwell, slamming the door behind them. Unseen items hit the steel door with a reverberating clang.

"We gotta throw Arty off our trail." Dean looked up the stairwell. "We should split up. I'll take the top floor, you take fourteen and we meet on thirteen."

"Think it'll work?"

"It'll buy us some time." Dean started up the stairs. "Use the walkie-talkies."

Sam followed, leaving his brother to go up another flight. By himself, alone on the floor, the deserted building was eerie. He was glad when he heard the squawk of his radio. He had placed his last pouch and was heading to the stairwell.

"I don't think this place is such a good investment," offered Dean.

"They're going to have to come down on the price," Sam agreed, thinking about all the damage on the subsequent floors.

"You can tell them it passed our inspection," Dean stated, and Sam heard his brother's voice echo up the stairwell, but still using the radio to talk to him.

"You sure the Winchester stamp of approval has any value?" Sam nodded a greeting to his brother, and clipped the radio on his belt.

Dean glanced at the radio, disappointed he could no longer use it. He dropped the walkie-talkie in his bag. "Too bad, really…I mean, promising a poltergeist-free home. I made sure my house didn't have any bad mojo."

"So do we have a plan?" Sam asked, his hand on the door knob of the last floor. The brothers knew the spirit of Arthur Zerropolis would be there with them, and would put up a battle.

"We do this really, really fast."

"Right." The younger Winchester gave a nod to his brother before he opened the door and rushed through. In moments, he was pulled off his feet and slammed into the blue coated drywall, pinned against it. A blast from Dean's shotgun reverberated throughout the large space, and the hold on Sam released, dropping him to the floor. He waved to his brother to show both his thanks and that he was fine.

"I'll cover you!" Dean yelled out.

Sam scrambled to his feet. He worked quickly, speeding up when he heard the shotgun again.

He ran to his next destination, swatting at nails and screws propelled in his direction. He felt their stinging bite, but had to finish in order to get back to help Dean.

"Done!" Sam yelled, before heading back to where he last saw his brother.

Dean was being forced backwards as pieces of pipe lanced toward him. He saw Sam and tossed the duffle with the remaining herbal bags at him. "Take it!" The momentary lapse in concentration cost him as a piece of pipe spun toward his upper arm. One threaded end scraped against the bare flesh, removing a large chunk of skin. "Sonofabitch!"

Sam wavered. He saw his brother make a move grab the wound, but instead Dean dropped to one knee to make his stand. "Go! I'll buy you some time!"

Sam retrieved the bag and knew he was already near one corner. He dove, hoping he'd complete his task before the poltergeist built up energy to react. Once finished, he stayed low, weaving his way to his last destination.

He slammed the final pouch into the small hole he'd created in the drywall. Gunfire sounded again, but it wasn't the deep blast of the shotgun. This time he heard the nine millimeter. He thought his brother had only brought the sawed-off.

"Damnit! Anytime now, Sammy. . ."

The younger Winchester raced toward his brother to find him laying on his back, silver pistol pointed upward in defense. Standing over him, clearly outlined instead of just mist and fog, was Arthur Zerropolis.

The man had shocking white hair and bushy eyebrows. He stared at them with black, pupil-less eyes, then faded to nothing.

Dean released a sigh and let his head drop back to the carpeted floor before closing his eyes. He felt Sam bending down, hovering over him.

"I'm fine," Dean muttered, but pulled his arm away as his brother probed the gouge.

Sam whistled. "I think you should see a doctor."

With a groan, Dean sat up. "I see a doctor, then Daniel finds out, then Tonya finds out and that is just way too many people." The older Winchester spared a glance at the wound. It was angry and still bleeding. "You can take care of it."

Sam was taken aback and shook his head. "I'm a little out of practice."

"Just like riding a bike." Dean flicked on the safety of the nine millimeter and slipped the weapon into his waistband. He let his brother help him to his feet and smiled before adding, "Come on, I trust you."

Sam scooped up Dean's shotgun and settled it in the duffel bag along with his own. He tried again to dissuade his brother from relying on out-of-practice suturing skills. "Probably going to leave a scar. . ."

"Awesome," Dean said with a grin, raising his eyebrows up and down. "Think it's safe to take the elevator down?"

still more to come. . .


	4. Chapter 4

Seems Like Old Times

By: Tidia

Disclaimer: See part 1. This is an AU.

Notes: Okay folks, this is the end. I am working on some new fics. Look for Interwoven-A Brotherhood AU fic about young Joshua. Thank you for the reviews. They are appreciated. Think good thoughts everyone!

Part 4

Sam drove them back to Dean's home. Once inside the older Winchester directed his brother where to find the supplies they would need.

Sam brought everything to the living room to find Dean perched on the arm of a recliner.

"You should probably sit **in** the chair." Sam said.

Dean shook his head. "Let's do this in the bathroom. I don't want Lucia to have to clean blood from the carpet."

"Lucia?" Sam asked, gathering up the first aid items before following his brother to the master bath.

"Cleaning lady," Dean explained.

He led the way to a large room lined with soft beige tiles. One corner was taken up by a Jacuzzi tub, opposite that was a glass-enclosed shower with spray jets and a steam unit. He'd once told Sam the bathroom was what sold him on the property.

Dean leaned over the sink and twisted one handle, encouraging lukewarm water from the faucet. He rinsed the wound on his arm as Sam laid out supplies on the top of the gray porcelain toilet tank. The younger Winchester hated being in this position and tried to diffuse his nervousness.

"What did you buy - a case of these?" He gestured to the box of butterfly bandages.

"Yeah, I've been waiting to break them out for a special occasion."

Dean dropped the toilet lid down and took a seat, watching his brother open a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and saturate some gauze squares. "You're going to need a few too, little brother." He lifted his hand to touch one of his brother's cuts, just as Sam applied the disinfectant to Dean's injured arm.

"Sonofabitch!" Dean exhaled sharply through his nose. The burning sensation warmed his arm and brought tears to his eyes.

"Sorry." Sam dabbed a little more, and when satisfied, placed a liberal amount of antibiotic ointment on the wound before pressing fresh gauze squares against it and wrapping it up. He tended to Dean's other cuts, before switching positions and allowing his brother to minister to him.

"What are you going to tell them at work?" Dean asked, as he pressed a small butterfly bandage across a cut on Sam's cheek. They would not heal by Monday morning and the bruises would only just be switching from red to purple.

"Camping trip gone wrong?" Sam suggested. He had explained to his girlfriend, Alissa, that he was going camping, so he thought he should be consistent. He was eventually going to tell her about his sideline work in hunting, but their relationship was still casual, and not serious, yet.

"God, I hate camping." Dean grimaced at his distaste. "They'll believe it."

On Sunday, the brothers relaxed. Sam left early that evening, heading back to his place in order to be at work on time the next day.

On Monday morning, Dean was surprised to hear from his brother so soon.

"Are you on the road?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, I'm on my way to the office. I know it's a rare occurrence, but I like to keep people on their toes. So. . .what's up?"

Sam knew what was really being asked and answered accordingly. "They blamed some vandals for the holes in the walls and the rest of the stuff," he stated with a relieved chuckle.

"Thank God for crime." Dean shook his head. They had been careful and the real purpose would not be discovered. From the extended pause that followed, the older Winchester sensed there was another reason why his brother had called. "That it?"

"I got an invite to poker night at Daniel's," Sam blurted. He stared at the email for the tenth time that morning, re-reading it again to make sure he did not misunderstand.

Dean had spoken to his friend, explaining that his brother was important and could not be dismissed or ignored. Daniel hadn't responded well when Dean threatened to quit, but quickly apologized for his stubbornness and promised to make amends. "He's trying, Sammy."

"I know. Thanks." Sam smiled. It was a simple gesture on Daniel's part, but it helped Sam start to feel accepted by his brother's friends and no longer an outsider to Dean's new life. "So, I guess I'll see you on Wednesday at Daniel's?"

Dean nodded even though Sam couldn't see the motion. Their father had raised them on cards and pool. On so many occasions since John had died, he had made himself be known and remembered. For Dean, playing poker with his brother at the table would be another moment. "Yep, and they better watch out with the Winchester boys together again."

The end


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